LIBRARY' OF CONGRESS. 

~-r^- Art 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



FRONDOLEER 



SPATH A. 

J 



■ The earliest wish I ever knew 
Was woman's kind regard to win." 

— Hartley Colcridgi 

■ O ! ever thus from childhood's hour 

I've seen my fondest hope decay; 
I never loved a tree or flower 

But 'twas the first to fade away." 

— Thomas Moore. 



c 



V 



OT.OIiF, PRINTING COMPANY. 

1878. 



Ir 



^c^v"^ 



VO 









Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by 

WILLIAM FREDERICK PARKER, /pf_^- 
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



FRONDOLEER. 



The moaning sea forever laves 

The mossy walls of Castle Vond ; 
Deserted are the lonely graves 

Beneath the dying tree beyond. 
And vv^ho lie there in endless sleep ? 

Ask not the sea ! It will not tell ! 
It can such woful secrets keep. 

It knows the force of silence well. 
It never has a secret told ; 

It rolls in sorrow on the shore 
And sages say it is so old 

That it in time will weep no more. 

The sea weeps now beneath that wall 

Antique and dark, and years ago 
When the tree beyond was green arrd tall 

And the dead alive it sorrowed so. 
Then Frondoleer lived in this place, 

The last link of a golden race. 
The sea was weeping at his birth, 

The sad wind moaning, and the soul 
That gave him being fled from earth 

And left him here in all control ; 



FRONDOLEER. 



For he, whom she had loved, had died 
When she was but a laughing bride ; 
And thus this little spirit came, 

When all was sad and death was near, 
Into a world of grief and shame, 

And some one called him Frondoleer. 

Some few there were who loved him then 
And told him tales of worthy men 
When he grew old enough to know 
The world was cold and full of woe. 
Soon they too died, as others had. 
And all the time the sea was sad 
And Frondoleer grew like the sea 
And wondered why his life should be 
So gloomy and his lot so dark 
As though he was a chosen mark 
At which some evil power bent 
Its bow and poisoned an-ow sent. 

His sorrow grew a part of him 
And oft his dreamy eyes were dim, 
And their deep force in tears were hid 
And then he would himself forbid 
Such selfish grief beside the sea 
And would fly from its company ; 
And down through valleys he would roam 
And feel that they were more his home. 
And hate those walls of Castle Vond 
Of which at times he was so fond. 



FRONDOLEER 



But he was young and had been given 
A blessing from imperial heaven, — 
An intuition that could see 
Through every natural mystery. 
His genius was of lofty kind 
That could hear music in the wind 
And worth discover in each thing, 
And some unknown meaning bring 
From countless shapes on earth, in air. 
That others did not know were there. 

In solitude and idle thought, 

In wild defiles from man apart. 
He spent much time till in his heart, 
A wish to love something had wrought 
A loathsomeness of loneliness 
That caused his tender soul distress. 
He loved one soon whose beauteous face 
He could through all his life-time trace 
In its perfection in his mind 
And never could its equal find. 
She was as cold as she was fair, 
For Frondoleer what did she care ? 
Her chiselled form within was cold, 
She had been cast in perfect mold, 
Her love was buried and unseen. 
She walked the earth a matchless queen. 
She was so young, still in her youth. 
She did not know herself in truth ; 
And could not guess what grief she made 



FRONDOLEER 



When she with love as past time played. 
Sad Frondoleer she oft would meet 
And saw no harm in love's deceit. 
She knew he loved her and he dreamed 
She was to him all that she seemed. 

He loved her with that love profound 
That only is to genius bound. 
He whispered love into her ear, 
She looked and laughed at Frondoleer, 
He bowed his head ; she ran away ; 
He changed forever from that day. 
" Alas ! she has no heart for me." 
He wandered to the moaning sea 
And on the walls of Castle Vond 
The weeping waves saw him dispond. 
" Her soul is marble ! What is mine.'' 
I loved, and deemed her half divine. 
O, shall I see her ever more ? 
Here I can my cold lot deplore." 

Then there was one who blushing came 

And pitied him in liis sad mood, 
And in sweet tones she breathed his name 

And said : " such thoughts should be subdued ; 
For happiness would come to none 

Like him, she saw so often grieve. 
Unless his mind from gloom was won." 

And thus to him oft spake Luneve. 
He thought much of her as a friend ; 

She pitied him for his despair 



FRON DOLEER 



And whispered oft, a gloomy end 

Might follow soon his brooding there ; 
Then Castle Vond would ever be 
An haunted place beside the sea. 

Upon the harp would fair Luneve 

In sympathy his sorrow quell 
And sing some melody at eve 

Or some delightful story tell. 
At times more sad his manner grew ; 
You know what music oft will do 
When one is thinking of the past 

And of some face one cannot see ? 
The boldest heart may sink at last 

And know full well dark misery. 
How oft Luneve would see a tear 
Steal from the eye of Frondoleer 
And her great heart would overflow 
And she would all his anguish know ! 
She did not love as others love, 

She sympathized with every thing, 
Her noble soul was far above 

What jealousy and envy bring ; 
But sympathy to love indeed 
In burning haste will often lead. 
Thus fair Luneve would oft appear 
To think too much of Frondoleer. 

He loved but one whose face and mien 
Within his mind were ever seen. 



IQ FRONDOLEER 



And .Castle Vond was sad when he 
Fell in his sullen lethargy 
And heeded naught that passed around, 
And heard no pleasant, welcome sound. 
And often then Luneve would lay 
Her graceful harp with care away 
And, stealing oft', leave him alone 
To listen to the ceaseless moan 
Of restless waves against the wall 
That loomed above so grim and tall. 

Now soon Luneve the end foresaw 
That this dark mood would be a law 
To Frondoleer, and life would be 
To him full of despondency ; — 
And she implored him to withhold 
His memory from thoughts so cold. 
Within his hand her harp she gave 
And they sat there above the wave, 
And she taught him to play and sing. 
So she was able soon to bring 
His brooding mind from gloomy thought 
And in his nature changes wrought. 
The genius that was born in him 

Awoke again ; for love can kill 
Or make appear most cold and dim 

That subtle spark that doth instil 
A force in one where it doth live, 
That makes one proud and sensitive. 
Soon Frondoleer the harp could play 



FRONDOLEER. II 



And he composed this idle lay 

And sang it when the night was clear. 

He loved her still he once held dear. 

" O hadst thou known the magic power 
That wrought its hidden spell on me 
Thou never had'st refused the dower 
That in my pride I offered thee. 

" Small though my fortune, still my might 
Soon would have been invincible, 
I could have lived in dazzling light 

Where now I in mute darkness dwell. 

" The pride of Solomon was mine, 

The depth of thought that Goethe knew, 
And in my soul I felt divine 

And every day still grander grew. 

" But to thee now farewell I sigh 

And curse the fiend that killed my peace. 
I know I too, like all, must die, 

My sorrows now can never cease. 

" Adieu at last, and bless the man 

That gives thee what I could not give ! 
Forget thee, O ! I never can 

While in this lonely world I live. 

"Unfortunate in love am' I, 

Prometheus-like cursed from above ; 



12 FRONDOLEER 



And yet my soul can never die 
For everlasting is my love. 

" The genius God to me has given 

Has made me weep w^ild tears ere this ; 
But it again shall dwell in heaven 
Amid the blest in lasting bliss. 

" Farewell at last, thou lovely one, — 

You little guessed who bowed to thee. 
When once I loved I was undone, — 
I never more can wander free. " 

Oft would he sit upon the wall 

Of Castle Vond when day had sped, 
And hear the water rise and fall ; 

The wind in sorrow as it fled ; 
The plaintive notes of birds of night 
Who find in darkness their delight ; 
The timid deer with its frail young 

Within the copse and tangled brake ; 
Then would again this lay be sung ; 

Then would again this harp awake ; 
Then would Luneve be by his side 

And all the joy that can arise 
From grief like his would then abide 

In both of them ; and her bright eyes 
Would brighter grow and she would play 
The harp and sing a merrier lay. 



FRONDOLEER. 13 



Thus time crept on 1 To Frondoleer 

Luneve an angel did appear. 

He could not tell why she should grow 

So dear to him ; but it was so. 

He knew the love he gave to one 

Who laughed at him and from him run 

Forever would be hers : yet still 

He had some mission to fulfil ; 

And oft Luneve was in his thought 

And in his mind more changes wrought 

Than she, unselfish thing, had dreamed ; 

And he more happy to her seemed 

Than he had ever been ; so she 

Rejoiced w^ith him that this should be. 

When he had learned to love her well 

On her and him there soon befell 

A change that added to his woe 

And made him far more sorrow know. 

O ! why is it that from us fly 

The dearest things we love ; and why 

When Frondoleer had grown bright 

Did she depart and bring a night 

To darken him and o'er him cast 

An everlasting gloom at last.'' 

They buried her in other lands. 
And on her grave an huge rock stands, 
And on its side is carved a line 
By one who knew she was divine. 



14 FRONDOLEER 



Where was the lady of his heart 

With matchless form and chiselled face, 
With beauteous smile and winning grace, 

Whose life from his had been apart? 

Such marble beauty is deceit, 

The soul within is not complete 

Until some love within is found 

That may to some deep love be bound. 

She never met a love so pure 

Or lasting as the love from him 

Who could unnumbered ills endure. 

He loved her till the spark grew dim 

That had been born within his soul 
From contact with his dark despair. 

What sounds are those .'' The clear bells roll ; 

The sweet tones fill the summer air ; 
His queen is to another wed. 
The binding vows have all been said, 
And gaudy people now are seen 
With bows and smiles before the queen ; 
And from the temple out they come, 
The air vibrates with merry hum. 
The bridegroom smiles on those around, 
No face of sorrow there is found. 
The high trees shade them from the sun. 
And children hither, thither run. 

What cry was that as wildly flew 
A lithe form down the avenue.'' 



FRONDOLEER. 15 



The concourse turned and at it gazed. 
One lady saw through all her days 
Within her mind that form ; and heard 
That stifled cry that breathed one word. 
She saw the being disappear 
And knew it was her Frondoleer. 

Ah ! years and years with him crept on, 

An angry cloud had dimmed his dawn. 

He did not curse his misery, 

He had strong hopes in destiny. 

That love that once was plainly seen 

He now concealed in a cold mien, 

He thought strange thoughts on his high wall, 

And heard the tide below him call. 

Its hollow voice was sad and deep ; 

He longed beneath the waves to sleep. 

He lived in Castle Vond alone, 

He sent the servants all away ; 
He loved to hear the sad sea moan ; 

He could not bear the sun of day ; 
And he would take his harp and weave 
A symphony for dead Luneve. 

" Who sings sweet music to me now? 
Who smooths with lilly hand my brow ? 
Who kisses now my cheek at eve 
As she once did they called Luneve? 



l6 FRONDOLEER. 



" Who dances queenly minuet? 
Who fills my antique calumet? 
Who doth condole with me at night 
And smile divine at rosy light? 

" Who speaks well now of what I do? 
Who knows in me the false from true? 
The world has ebbed and here I grieve 
And see no more my pure Luneve ! " 

And tremulous his instrument 
Each lonely chord around him sent, 
As he his head in sorrow bent ; 
And ceaseless rolled the ocean near 
As from his bright eye drooped a tear. 
Ah ! many knew his wondrous worth ; 
But few did love him in the earth ; 
And fair Luneve had gone away 
To gaze on the sun of another day, 
Whose brilliant beams are clear and pure, 
And doth all saintly souls allure ! 

What he had been he was not now. 

There was a gloom in his cold eye. 
There was a sorrow on his brow ; 

And there was that which did defy 
The power of the deepest woe 
That can befall poor man below. 
He seldom spake and when he did 
His life within was closely hid ; 



FRONDOLEER. I7 



And none around could tell why he 

Appeared so much a mystery. 

He closed the doors of Castle Vond ; 

He wandered on the dreary strand ; 
He longed to sever every bond 

That bound him to his native land. 
He went away ; he did not care ; 
He crossed the sea ; he knew not where. 
To leave the past and let it die 
Was now his wish ; he knew not why. 
Thus into many lands he went 

And wondrous beauties there were seen ; 
But he could never find content ; 

For he remembered each sad scene 
Of his past life, and oft there came 
Upon his lips a fatal name. 
Oh ! what was Venice then to him ! 
The gorgeous hues were cold and dim 
Of her chefs-d'oeuvre and the cry 
Of gondolier oft passing by 
Could not awake the sleeping dead. 
Thus even there his weary head 
Could not that peace, he longed for, gain, 
And scarcely he could oft refrain 
From throwing self into the tide 
That by some Palace door did glide. 

There was an impulse urged him though 
Whose origin he did not know ; — 
It seemed his destiny to keep 



l8 FRONDOLEER. 



And oft appeared clear in his sleep ; 

But quite obscure when sleep had passed, 

And this made him more calm at last. 

He saw not why he still should live ; 

But he did long his thoughts to give 

To that which duty told him do ; 

And thus he calculating grew 

And cold as marble ! Who could say 

If even love his heart could sway 

When youth and ardor passed away? 

He knew the power he possessed ; 

But no one else had ever guessed 

What mighty genius in him slept, — 

This secret to himself he kept. 

He knew if he should it reveal 

Some shameless soul might from him steal 

His works ; and men might yield the praise 

To some impostor ; for the ways 

Of this false world are even so ; 

And men of worth must sorrow know 

That oft dishearten them, and kill. 

Unless invincible in will. 

But Frondoleer knew well his strength 

And planned to use it right at length. 

He did not work for praise or fame, 

Or for a badge and empty name ; 

For to him now the world had naught 

With mystery or beauty fraught 

That could long give his soul delight, 

Or make his solemn face look bright. 



FRONDOLEER. 19 



He felt that he possessed a force 

That must move in a given course 

And like a star revolve and be 

The guide of his own destiny. 

So he grew silent and sedate ; 

He believed in things unseen and fate. 

In many cities old and grand 

Of Italy, that classic land, 

He wandered. In great works he read 

Its history ; and he was lead 

By some sweet force invisible 

Beside the Rubicon to dwell 

And dreamed of Ctesar and old Rome ; 

And by the Arno made his home. 

Far into other lands that held 

The secrets of the men of eld 

He roved ; and filled his mind with lore 

And learned odd truths, obscure before. 

And thus years passed and he returned 

To use the wisdom he had earned ; 

But he could never love again 

As he had loved, and never could 
Feel at his ease with fellow men ; 

By them he was not understood. 
And if he sought fair woman kind, 

With whom he sympathized, there came 

Upon him grief or on them shame 
From scandalous tongues that ever find 
A little mound that may be made 



20 KRONDOLEER 



A mount of ill to cast a shade. 

Oft now and then there does appear 

A wondi"ous man like Frondoleer 

Whose noble soul with love was filled 

Till love was spurned, then love was killed. 

O ! God of all, 'tis sad to be 

The vile slave of despondency 

And cruel love is base indeed 

When he will not our longing heed ! 

And now to Frondoleer the world 
Was one entangled wilderness ; 

But in mute pride his lips he curled. 
Some souls will never grief confess 

And seem to be insensible ; 

But they are sensitive and dwell 

In an unbounded world of light 

That with sweet imagry is bright. 

And cold observers never see 

Their joy or their misery. 

A lady of that land of art, 

Whose grandeur makes the coldest start. 

Sweet Italy, — met Frondoleer 

In Venice as he glided near 

Her gondola, when Carnival, 

The merry King, in home and hall, 

On the Canal and everywhere 

Was playing his wild antics there. 

She soon loved Frondoleer. Though cold 

His nature, hers was proud and bold. 



FRONDOLEER. 21 



She told him he had won her heart ; 
He smiled and said he would depart 
From Venice then if that was true. 
He never dreamed what she would do. 
O ! passionate and wondrous wild 
Are southern souls and she was quick 
To see that Frondoleer had smiled 
And her hot heart with love grew sick ; 
And she determined to forsake 
Her home and title and awake 
A passion in his breast for her 
And make him to her face aver 
That she was worthy all she sought. 
And thus on him her spell she wrought ; 
And he could not her suit withstand ; 
Though he was cold, yet he was grand, 
And to return such love as this 
Appeared to realize the bliss 
He had so longed for from his youth, 
So he returned her love in sooth. 
Still he was cold ; for his past life 
Had fashioned him sedate and grave, 
And he had ceased to wish a wife, 
And Miro to be such would brave 
The worst that could befall her then ; 
But he knew what his life had been. 
His love was dead and how could he 
Recall his youth or merry he? 
But her attachment was so strong 
That to refuse his love was wrong. 



22 FRONDOLEER 



His sympathy was deep and so 
He felt himself to Miro grow 
Day after day more than a friend 
And very soon foresaw the end. 
Again the doors of Castle Vond 
Were opened ; and the waves beyond 
Were peaceful and white sails were seen 

Of countless vessels gliding o'er 
The sea so blue and so serene ; 

And Frondoleer so sad before 
Was cheerful now when Miro came 
And kissed his cheek and breathed his name. 

The envious world spake ill of them, 
It is so quick such to condemn ; 
They both had suffered wrotigs untold ; 
But to their grief the world was cold. 
It called their love a liaison, 
Society said it was wrong, 
And, as society impure. 
They had its judgement to endure ; 
And this made Frondoleer lament 
That he would never be content ; 
But Miro laughed, for what had she 
To lose now by the worst decree } 
Had she not braved the worst before } 
She had won love, she sought no more. 
But idle tongues said wondrous things 
That flew about on lightning wings. 
And gave to Frondoleer a pain 



FRONDOLEER. 23 



That his proud heart tried to conceal ; 
Though to his heart it was a bane 
That to his face would oftimes steal, 
And one could read the anguish there, 
Defeated hope, untold despair. 

His harp one evening Miro brought 
And sweeping it in joyous way 
Told him to take it and obey. 

And give some tune that had been taught 

By some fair lady ; but a smile 
Of sorrow played upon his face 
And in a posture full of grace 

He sang these lines in his sad style. 

" Years with their many thefts have fled. 
My former mates are with the dead. 
No more by brook, no more on lea 
Shall I their cheerful faces see. 
Mv Springs are few in number ; 

Yet countless griefs encumber 
The sober mind of Frondoleer 
And every thought now calls a tear. 

"This harp, once touched by gentler hands 
In merrier times and happier lands, 
Refuses concord at my sweep. 
In Greece its wondrous players sleep. 
No melody, no measure 
Foretelling midnight pleasure, 



24 



FRONDOLEER 



Shall, waking fauns near woodland springs, 
Vibrate again its tender strings. 

" What is this surly strain of mine 
Inspired by no classic wine ? 
The death-note of another age, 
The last sighs of a youthful sage 

Fatigued by idle wailing 

And faculties now failing ! 
This is a mockery to the Past 
And, maiden, it shall be my last. 

" I will not praise that winning charm 
That lives in thee, — I will not harm 
This quiet scene with notes that tell 
The heart's disease, — the lover's spell ! 

Beneath this oak, this holly, 

Sweet notes of melancholy 
That ever seeths in my dark heart 
Shall swell, then with the night depart. 

" Sweet, curious essence, sure, is life ! 
In one odd form 'tis woman, wife, 
Celestial mother, sister, maid ; 
This form has forms of every grade ; 

And in the statlier other 

'Tis husband, lover, brother. 
How countless are its wondrous frames 
Which man, as one, has mocked with names ! 



FRONDOLEER. 25 



" In tiny plants it first was made, 
In simple purity to fade. 
No eye beheld its tender worth, 
Alone, unknown, it ruled the earth. 

Beneath the restless ocean 

Stirred by volcanic motion 
Vast continents did slumber then 
That cherish now plants, beasts and men. 

" No odd-framed monster can be fair ! 
I look on man, see greatness there. 
And on his mate, that lovliest form. 
And see all beauty fashioned warm. 
Can other nameless creatures 
With other forms and features 
Rule other orbs ? Surpassing queer 
If races differ in each sphere ! 

" To ears free from all earthly spell 
All sterile stars resound a knell ; 
Those shining with their own dense light 
Keep ceaseless day in their swift flight. 
And roll in will commotion 
With neither land nor ocean. 
Great masses of hot spheric fire, 
Slaves to pure laws of powers higher. 

" When I had reached poetic time 
Of this strange life, in sylvan clime. 
At matin hour I roamed by stream 



26 FRONDOLEER 



And fashioned thoughts as in a dream, 
I with myself contending 
Of self; yet comprehending 
Naught of me, — thinking o'er and o'er 
What puzzles now my thinking more. 

" I wandered onward to a tide, 
Majestic, crystalline and wide. 
Below^ the confluence then I stood 
Of two fair rivers. A peaceful wood 
Sweet perfumes was exhaling. 
And graceful boats were sailing 
Upon the limpid wavelets. Woe, 
I whispered, no one here could know ! 

" On gentle slope a castellet 
I heeded where the rivers met ; 
Beyond was deer-containing wold 
And farther, higher, mountains bold. 
Continuous love and sweetness 
And healthful joy and meetness 
This clime possessed ; yet envy, hate, 
Or malice crush such soon or late. 

" Fair virgins danced a minuet 
To silver notes of clarionet ; 
Each waist was bound with silken zone ; 
Each gave a step for every tone ; 

Each felt the soothing measure ; 

Each knew the rules of pleasure ; 



FRONDOLEER. 2^ 



Pure happiness gleamed from every eye ; 
I saw it all ; none knew me nigh. 

" A vessel nautiloid and gold, 
With canvas in artistic fold, 
Moored by the maidens dancing here, 
Was gently rocking, rolling near 

An insular pavillion. 

Small circles of vermillion 
Were interwoven on each oar 
With mottoes from the Grecian lore. 

" Sleep-soothing odors danced me by ; 
Cloud-mountains pleased my drowsy eye. 
From breezy morn till quiet eve 
I could not that sweet river leave. 

With beauty all around me 

Postponement ever found me ; 
My greatest pleasure was to think ; 
My dearest spot, that river's brink. 

" Yet as I gazed upon that scene, — • 
The rich veranda, — varied sheen 
Of many gems, — the graceful air 
Of countless maidens moving there 

I felt a sad forboding 

That time with arts corroding 
Would relics make, where youth would roam 
And virtuoso with its tome. 



28 FRONDOLEER 



" Alas ! few years had flew away, 
When I spent there another day. 
Alone I wandered o'er the place ; 
For pleasant dreams I found no trace. 
A careless natural wildness 
Usurped the former mildness 
Of all the scenery ; the deer 
Fled from me far in nimble fear. 

" One peaceful eve another time, 
Mid glorious scenes of foreign clime 
Society with beauties fraught 
By invitation kind I sought. 

Great men from every nation, 
Of every style and station, 
I bowed before and shook by hand ; 
Here too were maids from every land. 

" One wight of odd propensity 
To his estate decoyed me, 
A rural mansion on a hill. 
The subject of his wayward will. 
Here revelry incessant 
Beneath night's watchful cresent 
Foretold that misery would reign 
Soon in such heir's corrupted brain. , 

" Made hellish by unruly feaze. 
No art at length his mind could please. 
On willing maids he long did leer, 



FRONDOLEER. 29 



Disliking though a lawful feere. 
In early manhood dying 
With no heart for him sighing, 

He left no name his line to grace ; 

Now of his grave there is no trace. 

" A cosmopolitan am I ; 
For I have roved o'er mountains high 
And wafted by the friendly breeze 
Have sailed upon all worthy seas. 

My restless brain was burnmg 

For every kind of learning ; 
Thus I myself ruled by myself 
Did seek for love, despising pelf. 

" Deem not my restless nature wild. 
The sweet Gazelle is not more mild, 
Or more serene the fairest thing 
That roves with foot or soars with wing. 
I have a deep affection 
That cannot brook detection, 
A dreamy thought, an essence fleet, 
That cannot worldly feelings meet. 

" This harp here no concordance yields 
Me now ; — my restless mind conceals 
Its thoughts ; my soul demands a change ; 
Familiar notes are growing strange ; 

And even melancholy 

Appears a passing folly ; 



36 FRONDOLEER 



Away then with this strain of woe ; 
Your soul no more should sorrow know !" 

Then Miro kissed him ; for she knew 
He was despondent, and she threw 
About his neck her lovely arms, 
And seldom had before her charms 
Won solemn Frondoleer as then. 
He longed once more to love again. 
And he spake words of love ; and she 
Dreamed she had won felicity. 

'' Dear Miro ! how I love thee now ; 
It seems so strange it should be so ; 
I thought I never would allow 
Myself to be more than a friend 
To thee, though more I might pretend- 
To be, least thee I might offend ; 
But thou each passing day dost grow 
. So dear to me that I half fear 
There is some evil lurking near." 

In her fine face the hot blood came, 
A blush of love, not one of shame ; 
Her brilliant eyes looked on the ground ; 
But she was silent ; then a sound 
From restless ocean landward flew 
And louder every moment grew. 
Again fond Miro clung around 
His graceful neck, and she did send 



FRONDOLEER. 3I 



Her fiery love with his to blend, 
And they felt joy for a time 
Akin to happiness divine ! 

They heard near them a sudden cry 

Of deep distress upon the sea ; 
The wind was rushing wildly by ; 

They wondered what the sound could be. 
It came from near the Castle wall, 
Shrill notes of fear that often fall 
From some fair woman's mouth ! Away, 
Ere Miro there one word could say. 
Away through hall and by huge door 
Fled Frondoleer down to the shore. 
He stood upon a mossy stone. 
He listened, and he heard a moan ; 
He sea-ward looked, the lightning shone ; 
He saw a yacht, a pleasure boat. 
It could not many moments float. 
And who within that yacht were they ? 

Did ye behold them toss and roll? 
The sky above was cold and grey ; 

Nor yacht, nor selves could they control ! 
Like mad artillery was heard 

The restless thunder, and a flash 
Of lightning ever and anon 
In zig-zag courses flying on. 
Revealed the angry ocean dash 
The shaggy rocks. The frightened bird 
Flew from its chosen rest, and tried 



32 . FRONDOLEER 



Within the crest of waves to hide. 

All was commotion ; sea and shore 

A dark and hideous aspect bore. 

And high the yacht arose again ; 

Once more the sky was bright, and then 

A cry was heard from Frondoleer. 

No mortal saw him disappear 

Beneath the waves and eddying tide, 

Save one who grasped the yacht's frail side, 

And whose cold marble lovliness, 

And classic form and graceful dress, 

A moment Frondoleer had seen 

And knew ; and all the love returned, 

And that pent spirit in him burned, 

That had impelled his youth ! The queen 

Of his first passion and despair 

Was near him then and dying there. 

They never saw her more. A wave 

Swept over her, and also he. 
Who was her husband and who gave 

His wealth to her that he might be 
What he became, sank by her side 
With one wild cry down in the tide. 
And she was dead ; no burial came 

To her save in the solemn deep ; 
And some wept when they heard her name 

As only true-souled people weep ; 
For well they knew that Frondoleer 
Through years of grief had held her dear. 



FRONDOLEER. 33 



And Frondoleer had perished too ! 
The wild sea knew what it could do. 
As merciless as man in power, 
As vengeful as the fleeing giaour. 
It dashed its billows wild and high 
And saw two lovely beings die. , 

With ceaseless surge the wild sea rolled ; 
And in and out it came and went, 
And up the wall the spray was sent. 

And in the town a great bell tolled, 

The tones died mournfully away. 

The same bell rang in turret grey 

Upon a certain wedding day ; 

But never more would Frondoleer 

Its notes of joy or sorrow hear ; 

But ever now that sullen bell 

Would seem for him to toll a knell. 

Upon the beach two forms, were found ; 
The people murmured they were drowned. 
On them the science of the day 
Was tried ; — the soul had passed away 
Of Frondoleer ; — the other one, 

The consort of that winning belle, 
Revived just as the golden sun 

Crept up the East, and cheered the dell, 
And winding vale, and merry stream, 
And clothed the earth in dazzling dream. 
He lived through half a century, 



34 FRONDOLEER. 



And gave his life to one fair child, 
Who, like himself, was frank and mild ; 
And like her mother grew to be 
In face, and form, and dignity. 

But Frondoleer they buried near 

The walls of Vond, beneath a tree 
That he had planted and held dear. 

And all this while few friends could see 
The weeping Miro, and few came ! 
The world said she had lived in shame 
With him now dead, so few came there 
To sooth her grief and her despair. 

Oft would she rave when cold night spread 

Its darkness round. Her soul had fled 

Away with his ; the somber hues 

Of moonless nights with their chill dews 

Were fit companions for her now. 

The rose-tint left her cheek ; her brow 

Was white as marble ; ever and anon 

She wept ; and 'spake sad thoughts as dawn 

With tender purple colors made 

The night-shades with their sorrows fade. 

" O breathe no more his noble name, 
O sing no more his magic verse ! 

O that is linked with lasting fame, 
When these I hear, my lot I curse ! 

Why ! pillowed on the ebbing wave. 



FRONDOLEER. 35 



Did I not find with him a grave? 
What can my future now contain ? 

I know now what my bliss has been ! 
Death is my portion, life is bane ! 

I baseness see in other men. 
He shines a radiant orb at night 

And beckons me with purest light. 
Sublime, ethereal Frondoleer ! 

Thy death became thy life ; but why 
Should Miro linger here ? 

I would this peaceful morning die ; 
Yet shall I live and noble be 
And, dying, give my soul to thee? 

" His peerless, marble visage grew 

A Paradise within my mind. 
A grander man I never knew. 

And such I never more will find. 
Thought kills each thought, and doubt doth sting 
Each pleasant dream my hope can bring. 
My burning tear-drops can not quell 

The deeper burning of my heart ; 
Nor can my tongue my sorrow tell ; 

Nor can I from myself depart." 

A dull day came with sunless sky ; 
She knew so well that she must die. 
A few friends stood near by her, who 
Were nobler than the world, and grew 
To love her when thev knew how she 



3^ FRONDOLEER 



For his love had braved calumny. 
To them in gentle tones she spake 
And whispered to them, for his sake 
To cherish Castle Vond, and they 
Wept then and promised to obey. 

The one man that I loved is dead ; 
By his I soon will place my head. 
To you, around me, that loved him 

These things I say : few such as he 

Grace earth save once a century, 
And then the light of such is dim 

To men, because men's souls are blind 
To that far greater worth in them. 

They cannot, for they will not, find 
Aught but great vices to condemn 
In men so great who soar above 
Small men in genius and in love. 
In recognition men are slow ; 
And oft great men have greater woe 
Than is discovered by the throng 
That moves with idle jests along. 
This man, now dead, you somewhat knew ; 

But I, who loved him, knew his soul 
Was high as heaven and as true. 

He had the patience to control 
His genius, which was pure and grand. 
And this you did not understand. 
And now farwell to you near me ! 
You once loved him, you now may be 



t-RONDOLEER. 37 



Defenders of his worth and name 

And give him dead his meed of fame. 

I love you all ! To Him who may 

Bless more my other life I pray, 

And do implore in holiness 

That He will lighten such distress 

As falls on you ! O may it be 

More fair than that which fell on me !" 

And they, around her, wept, and night 

With sky all clouds and misty moon 
Crept on. In Miro's eyes the light 

Grew dim. To some she seemed to swoon ; 
But it was as a passing sleep. 

And ere they standing near her there 
At her last words had ceased to weep^ 

Her breath had gone ; still she was fair 
And lovliness was on her face ; 
But of her anguish not a trace 
Was left. Some kissed her lips ; they knew 
Earth seldom has a love so true. 

-Beneath the oak they buried her 

Where Frondoleer lay still and dead ; 

And on their graves sweet flowers were, 

And o'er her there some prayers were said. 

So Frondoleer and Miro sleep 
Beside each other near the deep. 



38 FRONDOLEER 



Above them bends a dying tree, 

By him placed there in years gone by, 
And still by Castle Vond the sea 

Rolls in and out with ceaseless sigh. 
And some now praise dead Frondoleer, 
And to his memory shed a tear, 
Lamenting now, alas, too late. 
Their envious acts, his gloom and fate. 
Oh ! when such soul of worth has fled 
Dark Envy bows its sullen head, . 
And Jealousy weeps at its shame, 
And then the dead man has his fame. 



